How You Look at the Glass
by jjscm01
Summary: Lindsey's always been an optimist.


It happens so quickly Lindsey hardly has time to be shocked. Lorne fires the bullets into his chest in response to Lindsey's offer to sing. He doesn't need to read Lindsey's aura. His fate has been decided. Was decided a long time ago, really.

Lindsey can't even fully express his outrage at Angel not deeming him important enough to kill in person. He can only hold his chest and slump to the floor, the blood leaving him behind as his life flashes before his eyes.

_His first foster home. The repossession of the house had left them basically homeless, and with nowhere for the four surviving kids to live, the authorities had stepped in. They'd been separated, as he knew they would be. None of the families who were willing to take in kids had room for four._

_His foster mother had been kind. "Can I see the others soon?" he'd asked hopefully, after she'd shown him where he would be sleeping. He'd have his own room, for the first time._

_She'd hesitated. "Maybe."_

_He'd got the same answer in his next foster home, and the next one, until he'd stopped asking._

...

_His first meeting with Holland Manners. 19 years old, and still struggling to hide his poverty, having to work twice as hard as everybody else there._

_"I think you have potential," Holland had said, as Lindsey tried to hide his pride. "You understand the importance of doing what it takes."_

_It had been something of a shock to learn that vampires and demons were real, and that he'd be representing them in court, if he agreed to work for Wolfram and Hart. He couldn't tell anyone, obviously. They'd think he was insane. Either way, he remained more afraid of the more mundane threats to his life, of not being able to pay his bills, not having medical insurance..._

_He'd signed the contract._

...

_The mail room. Working with Brad. They'd quickly become good friends, joking about the insane situation they'd found themselves in. His father had died by then, had never known about his youngest son joining a law firm, albeit at the bottom of the operation._

_"You're going places, McDonald," Brad had said on a regular basis._

_He was right._

...

_"This is Lilah Morgan, one of our associates..."_

_Lilah cast an approving eye over Lindsey as Holland introduced them. They shook hands, Lindsey noticing her perfect clothes and delicate features. She was a knockout, alright._

_"How long have you worked here?" he asked._

_"A few years. Holland Manners recruited me, too. He pretty much saved my life."_

_"Really?" Lindsey couldn't imagine this woman ever needing her life saved._

_Lilah gave him a sharp glance. "You think you're the only one who had to work your way up?"_

...

_His first time playing in Caritos. Lorne watched him sing "Fast Car" with an interested expression, putting an arm around him after he'd finished as he offered his advice. "I'd get out of that firm of yours sooner rather than later. Take matters into your own hands, while you still can. You'll get that later."_

_But he hadn't listened, had he?_

...

_Seeing Darla for the first time. Naked, in a box with bars, Lindsey almost disinterested as he held on to his stump of an arm, only seeing the way to destroy Angel..._

...

_The feeling of peace and serenity as Angel had locked the doors to the wine cellar. Knowing that his fate was in Darla's hands, and not minding either way..._

...

_His contract with Wolfram and Hart extended beyond his death. He knew that, had always known, even as he had walked away, citing his "evil hand issues..."_

...

_Eve. The woman who had given up her immortality for him. He tries to focus on his memories of her, of their first meeting, his arm brushing hers in the bar where he had just finished singing, his whisper in her ear, "I know what you are."_

_His research into the Senior Partners had led him to her. She had loved him in the way that Darla couldn't._

...

_His perfect life in the suburbs. His wife, a beautiful blonde who reminded him of someone, though he couldn't think who. His son, who looked just like Lindsey had as a kid. An only child, like his dad. The shock as Angel had ripped the amulet off him and he'd remembered that it wasn't real, as his real memories had come rushing back like a bad dream. Worse than the monster in the cellar._

"Angel..."

His enemy's name is the last word on his lips. He doesn't see Lorne's sadness, or hear his "goodnight, folks..."

Lindsey opens his eyes to find himself in a white room, sitting in front of a desk. A familiar voice says, "Welcome to your new office."

Lilah slides into the chair opposite him, a vision in pink. She crosses her legs, leans forward and beams as if they're old friends meeting for drinks. "So, how've you been?"

There's a scar across Lilah's neck from where she was beheaded. Lindsey feels for the bullet holes that he knows are there in his chest.

"Boy, am I glad to see you."


End file.
